Wings of an Angel (Destiel) Supernatural
by SherlockSparkleParty
Summary: "Dean, you have to let go of me," Castiel pleaded desperately, trying to get out of Dean's grasp. He knew what would happen if his wings stayed pressed against Dean's bare chest like this, and he did not want those events to occur. "Please, Dean. I am begging you. Let go of me. You've got to."


Wings of an Angel

It was a soft silence for a little while, Dean just sitting on the sidewalk on this unbelievably busy night. His back was against the ruined brick building, and his breath was unsteady, although it marginally began to steady itself, unlike his heartbeat. He was glad that what had happened was over, at least for now. But he didn't exactly have much time if the job wasn't done yet. Though, the older Winchester rested his head back, closing his eyes and sighing, and almost immediately his phone began to ring. He picked his head up in a surprised hurry, and scrambled to his feet. Realizing that it was Sam that was calling him, he opened the phone up and answered. "Yeah."  
"I don't know what's happening," Sam warned, sounds interfering with his audio a bit, due to the wind blowing past the speaker of his phone (Dean decided that he must have been running), "but you have to head to Cas, right now."  
"Why?"  
"Trust me. You're gonna want to."  
Dean hesitated, a scared lump forming in his throat. "Sam, what's happeni-"  
"Dean, I don't have time to explain. Just do it!"  
The line went dead. Dean knew that his brother hadn't been joking around, and there was no time to waste. Worry paralyzed him for just a moment, his limbs frozen, terrified thoughts about Castiel running through his mind. What had he gotten into?  
Finally, Dean began running, as fast as he could, to the place where Castiel had been fighting for the Winchesters. He forgot all about the car by this point. His feet pounding against the sidewalk as he ran faster, the site not for another ten blocks out through the country, he yelled out, "Cas!"  
Finally, all the way down the road at the dead end, near the house they were keeping guarded, Dean stopped running. "Cas!" he called again, his lower lip quivering just slightly. He looked all around, and saw a hand raised up slightly in the air.  
"I'm over here," replied Cas's voice, very weakly.  
Dean ran over to where the hand was raised, and confirmed that it was, indeed, Cas, who was sitting there with his legs crossed. His imitated poise made him look like he was just fine, but Dean saw that something was seriously wrong, as his eyes were still lit up brightly but his body was obviously weak. His wings, too, were visible. There must have been great trouble. Dean fell to his knees next to him, his eyes widening. He saw blood dripping all over Cas's chest from a deep cut, which ran down from his collarbones to the bottom of his stomach. A large blade was dug deep inside of the cut. Plentiful amounts of blood also dripped from between his lips and his neck, falling into his hands, staining between his fingers. "Oh, Christ, Cas," said Dean with a shaky voice. He ripped the blade out of his body and threw it far off to the side. "Dude." He placed his right hand on Castiel's chest, right where the slit was. His face twisted up in a type of pain.  
"Dean, calm down," Castiel said in a low tone, his voice shaking in pain.  
"Please, hang in there, Cas."  
"Dean."  
"I said hang in there, alright?!"  
In a hurried fashion, Dean took his hand away from his friend and pulled off his shirt. He bundled it up before attempting to dab some of the blood away. "You're gonna be okay Cas, don't you worry."  
Castiel narrowed his brightened blue eyes at Dean, not rejecting the dabbing of his blood, but simply forgetting that it was even happening, as he didn't know how to react. "I could not exactly handle this like I usually could, Dean. Don't know why not."  
"You can handle Hell for me. Literally, Hell. But not this."  
"Dean, this was something from one of the darkest pits of Hell, and it was hard to fight. If you can't tell already." Castiel shook his head a little bit, and finally inched backwards, as a sign for Dean to stop pointlessly stroking his chest with the cloth of his shirt. His back became hunched as he just stared at the ground. The blood was only getting streaked, anyway, and not soaked up. "You're going to have to tell Sam what happened here. I tried holding it back, but-"  
Dean gave Cas a face, his eyebrows indenting. "You tried? It got away from you? It's not somewhere around here?"  
"It did more than get away. I don't think it is anywhere around here." Cas frowned a bit, his eyes glowing brighter. He stared Dean down, from the questioning look in his eyes to the quiver running through to his feet. "But you have to tell him now. I won't be able to."  
Leaning towards Castiel, Dean began to feel a bit uneasy. He saw the look on his significant friend's face, and he knew that it wasn't a good one. After a while of staring, he finally realized what was happening.  
He knew that Cas was going to die.  
"No way," demanded Dean, shaking his head and trying to ease his lips from making so much movement. "No way in hell am I gonna let you go. You're stronger than this!" His eyes began to sting, so he rubbed at them with the back of his hand.  
Castiel began to cough, but before he could, he turned his back to Dean so he didn't have to see the blood shooting out of between his lips. He switched his position and got onto his knees, doubling over. He had little strength left as it was, so this caused a worry in Dean's stomach. Dean began to reach for him, to help him up so he could get help somewhere, but Castiel said, "Don't touch me, Dean. Please." He swallowed, coughing just a small bit before turning back to his friend, a clear film forming over his right eye. "You have taught me a lot, Dean."  
"Don't you dare, Cas," warned Dean, choking up. His lips tightened and a tear rolled down his cheek. "Don't you dare start that lecture that everyone gives when they're dying. You're not dying, you hear me? You're gonna be fine."  
Ignoring that statement, Cas continued, "You've even taught me how to use my emotions. Dean, you became someone so profoundly dear to me. Sam, too, but...You." He made a weak smile, and it faded almost as quickly as it had shown up. He knew that the smile was covered in his own blood, so it wasn't exactly a very welcoming smile.  
"Cas, please. What can I do to help you get better, man?"  
"You can't do anything. I wish you could, Dean."  
"Please. Don't say things like that." Dean sniffled just a small bit.  
"I apologize, Dean." Castiel's frown indented further, and he tried standing up. He was successful, though he stumbled as he began to walk away.  
Dean stood up too, calling out, "Cas!" He watched him walking, and as Castiel was about to fall over, he ran to him and wrapped his arms around him, a stinging pain shooting through his body from the forceful impact. They both fell back to the ground.  
"Dean, you have to let go of me," Castiel pleaded desperately, trying to get away from his tight grasp. He knew what would happen if his wings stayed pressed against Dean's bare chest like this, and he did not want those events to occur. "Please, Dean. I am begging you. Let go of me. You've got to."  
Refusing to let go of Castiel, though he tried his hardest to escape, tears began to fall like a warm summer rain from Dean's eyes. "I'm not letting you go off and die without even trying to help you!"  
"Dean."  
"No, Cas!" He realized how weak Castiel was at this point, and he almost believed that he was hurting him further by holding him like this. But he still held on for dear life. "Hang in there, Sam will come to look for us at some point. This'll all be over soon, don't you worry."  
Castiel hung his head down, his lower lip twitching in a type of shame. He had let Dean down by getting so hurt, and now he was triggering false beliefs. He was sure that this was not going to end well for his closest friend. He had stopped struggling by this point. He had stopped moving altogether, in fact. He just sat there, thought about his actions an how he could have survived for Dean, This silence made Dean scared, scared to hell and back. He let go of his angelic friend after several uninterrupted minutes of quietness, and after that period of time, Castiel didn't make a movement, but he flopped down onto his back. Dean rested his head against Cas's stomach. No breathing was present, no air was circulating around his lungs.  
"Cas!" He knelt next to him now, trembling, avoiding the prints of Castiel's wings, which were now burned into his skin. His crying had fear and sadness written inside of the pitches. "Breathe, Cas! Come on! Don't do this!" He stared straight at his eyes, which had gone dim, fading very much. He swiped his hand over the beautiful eyes, closing them. "I'll avoid pie for the rest of my life if you just open your eyes. Man, this isn't cool. Come on, Cas! _CAS_!"  
Dean leaned down and rested his forehead against Cas's. "Please don't leave, Cas," he whispered in a raspy tone. "Please. I'm so sick of losing people that I care about." He inhaled heavily and punched the ground next to him. "I'm so tired of watching everyone I love die. Hell, is this the price I have to pay for everything? Why do I have to watch 'em all die?" His crying was only growing stronger, never ceasing.  
After a long, sustained moment of memory, Dean abruptly stood up. He reached into his pocket, snatched up his phone, and dialed Sam's number.  
After a couple of rings, Sam answered. "Is he alright?" he asked.  
Dean shook his head, and there were only a few words that he was capable of speaking at this moment. "Get here now! Right now, Sammy! No questions!" he boomed loudly, swiping away his tears.  
"What-"  
"I don't care if you're about to kill that thing for good! Ditch it and get here, we might be able to save him!" Dean ended the phone call there.  
He knew it was impossible to save Castiel now, but the impossible never stopped Cas from saving him when he needed saving.


End file.
